Page 17 of Venomous Games

“I don’t,” she insists, holding her head high. “I can handle it.”

“You can’t, and that’s obvious. No more jobs until you start going to meetings,” I tell her, crossing my arms over my chest.

“But I need the money for food and rent.”

“Give me the details of what you need, and I’ll cover it.” I hold out my hand.

“No. No, this is too much, Maven. I’ve got this under control.”

“It’s fine to let some of that control go, Carrie. I do with you.” She shakes her head as tears well in her eyes.

“But I look after you; you’re my baby sister,” she says. “Let me do this.”

“No, you need help, and I won’t just sit by and not do anything.”

She stands a little taller, wiping her eyes.

“You killed him, Maven. Killed him without a contract. You never do that.” She’s right. I never assassinate without a contract. I keep my personal business and feelings away from my work. But I just couldn’t let this one slide. I didn’t even try to talk myself out of it, which is very unlike me.

“Stop changing the subject,” I tell her, just as a knock comes on the door. We both turn to look at it, because who the fuck is knocking on my door? I have very few friends, and they don’t even know where I live. And I like it that way.

“Stay there,” I tell Carrie, and go to the front door. When I reach it, I pull it open and come face-to-face with the detective. A familiar prickle blooms in my chest, the kind that tells me to pay attention.

“You lost?” I ask, raising a brow and leaning against the doorframe. “Or do you just knock on random doors?” I’m out of my riding leathers now and wearing only a baggy shirt with nothing else. I notice his gaze drop to my bare legs for a fraction of a second before it snaps back to my face, but I don’t flinch.

“I went looking for Carrie. I had some questions. When she didn’t answer, I searched your address,” he says, trying to peer over my shoulder. I make sure to block his path so he can’t see behind me.

“What do you want to talk to her about?” I ask, planting a hand on my hip. My shirt rides up a little, and his gaze flicks to my legs again.

“Why do you have blue hair?” His tone is deceptively casual, but his eyes are sharp, scanning and evaluating everything.

“Because it’s my favorite color, and it looks good on me. Do you think it doesn’t look good on me?” I lift a strand and twirl it around my finger, appearing casual while feeling anything but.

Something flickers in his eyes, but he doesn’t break his composure. “You are very weird,” he replies.

“Thank you.” I let a smirk tug at my lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” I move to shut the door, thinking I’ve regained my control, but his foot slides out, stopping it from clicking shut. My pulse hammers harder. He’s not just a cop; I feel the predator in him even as he pretends civility.

“Where is your sister?”

“Not here.” My voice is calm, but my mind races, noting the space between us, every subtle gesture he makes.

“I watched her walk in,” he says, letting it hang between us, proving that he knows I’m lying.

“Well,” I say, tilting my head and letting the barest hint of annoyance slip in, “you can watch her walk out if she leaves.” I nod. “Have a good day, Detective.” I smirk, and nudge his foot with mine, a push that reminds him I’m not intimidated.

He doesn’t move immediately, his eyes unreadable. I hear him exhale slowly, the tension between us almost a living thing in the narrow hallway. I snap the door closed after his foot retracts, my hand still tightly gripping the knob.

“Goodnight, Maven James,” he singsongs through the door. I lean against the wall, feeling the adrenaline in my veins, my mind running through the next steps, wondering what he knows. And what he’ll do next.

Asshole.

“Was that detective looking for me?” Carrie asks worriedly.

“You should stay the night,” I tell her. She nods and drops onto my couch. “I have to go out. I’m meeting up with Antonia for her birthday. Don’t leave, okay? And if he comes back, don’t answer.” I point my finger at her. She’s safest here, and I don’t want to miss Antonia’s birthday again. I missed the last one, and she wasn’t happy with me.

She sinks further into the couch, grabs the remote, and turns the television on. I head to my room and throw on a cute pink dress, because Antonia requested we all wear pink for the occasion.

After putting on some hot pink heels, I step out of my room to find Carrie asleep already, the television still on. Checking to make sure my cameras are on, I feel better leaving her, knowing I can keep an eye on everything.